On A Bare Branch A Crow Is

Not To Think Of Yourself / As Someone Who Did Not Count -- / Festival Of The Souls.

Clapping My Hands With The Echoes The Summer Moon Begins To Dawn.

Now The Swinging Bridge Is Quieted With Creepers ... Like Our Tendrilled Life.

With Every Gust Of Wind, The Butterfly Changes Its Place On The Willow.

Year's End, All Corners Of This Floating World, Swept.